


did it make us strangers?

by tinglingworld



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Episode: s10e04 Home Again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinglingworld/pseuds/tinglingworld
Summary: "I think I hate her," Scully’s voice felt awfully loud to herself at 2am in his living room. She bit her lip at how much the words burned as they rolled of her tongue, "I think I hate her for what she did and I need you to tell me it's okay because I can't hate my dead mom. I can't. I-"
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 21
Kudos: 93
Collections: X-Files Episode Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonikaFileFan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaFileFan/gifts).



> written for Monika.  
> The prompt was:  
> Post ep where Scully really relies on Mulder for support. I'd like to see them go back to Margaret's house at some point and maybe Scully finds something left behind for her/and Mulder. Maybe she gets an answer to one of the questions she had for her mother. If you have Mulder offering further reassurance about their conversation on the log that would be great too.
> 
> I know this veered somewhat off most more detailed aspects of the prompt and I am sorry for that. However, there will be second chapter that'll follow up on it and should hit all the marks although regretfully it isn't done yet. For today, I hope you still like this part of the story and I promise the next one will be up soon.

"Mulder?"  
"Hmmm," he grumbled and rolled over, fumbling for the light on the end table and almost falling off the couch in the process, clearly still half asleep.  
"I think I hate her," Scully’s voice felt awfully loud to herself at 2am in his living room. She bit her lip at how much the words burned as they rolled off her tongue, "I think I hate her for what she did and I need you to tell me it's okay because I can't hate my dead mom. I can't. I-"  
She cut herself off as she felt tears pricking her eyes and her chest constricting with the feeling of being suffocated by grief and anger struggling for power and choking her in the process. She clenched her hands into fists and bore her nails into her palms to feel something besides the horrible pain in her chest that was taking her breath away.  
"Come here," Mulder said, voice still rough with sleep, and pushed himself upright, patting the now empty space beside him.   
He wasn't sleeping well and she woke him. Scully couldn't help but feel guilty for that, too. She did come to him though, crawling onto the couch, tucking herself into his side, and rested her head against his shoulder. He carefully draped the scratchy old blanket across her, his hand eventually coming to rest warmly against her back.

"She signed a DNR," Scully spoke slowly after a moment, more into Mulder's shirt than into the room, "She changed her will and signed a DNR and she didn't tell me."  
Saying it out loud felt like pouring salt into a gaping wound but she knew it was her only chance to ever stop the bleeding even if it felt impossible.  
She felt Mulder take in a breath but wasn't yet ready to hear his reply so she kept talking:  
"They could have saved her. I read her file. They could have saved her but I had to take her off life support."  
"Dana,..." his voice was soft and she knew he was going to tell her that once upon a time he and her mom had to do the exact same thing to her. She shook her head against his shoulder, not wanting to hear it.  
"She didn't even tell me. Why wouldn't she tell me?"  
The calming effect of Mulder's arms around her was quickly fading as more anger flared up, flushing her cheeks and quickening her pulse and bringing with it the guilt for even thinking these thoughts about her mom at all. Her _dead_ mom.  
"I would've understood!”, Scully continued, unable to stop herself now, “I might not have approved, but I would have understood. But she didn't even bother to _tell_ me. Me! When I was the only one who was there! She had four children and I was the only one that was always there. Missy died and Charlie left and Bill went to Germany and still she didn't TELL ME!"  
Her voice had raised but she now bit her lip to keep the tears that had been building from spilling because she wasn't sure if they would be tears of grief or anger or worse, guilt, and she couldn't allow them if she didn't know. Instead she took a shaky breath and when she spoke again it came out as only a whisper:  
"Why didn't she tell me?"  
  
"I don't know," Mulder breathed in response, stroking his hand over her back soothingly, "I don't know and you won't ever know either. I think it's okay to be mad about that."  
The words felt like water on her burning heart. They were exactly what she'd asked of him and yet actually hearing them made her only feel worse. The lump in Scully’s throat grew to an almost unbearable size but she kept fighting the tears. How could she cry for her own selfish reasons when her mother had _died_? She bit her lip even harder and tasted blood, cringing at the coppery taste of it, even 15 years into being declared cured. Reluctantly releasing her lower lip, she instead hid her face in the soft fabric of Mulder's sleepshirt.  
  
Her mind was racing, while the rest of her body was quite literally caught in limbo: hormone levels keeping it somewhere between fight or flight, leaving her wanting to yell and rage but also to cry and crumble and never move again.  
 _Just keep breathing_ , she repeated in her mind over and over again, forcing her body to calm down by extending her exhales. Her nostrils filled with the familiar smell of Mulder's shampoo and the stuffy blanket he’d been sleeping under and she closed her eyes tightly until the urge to break into tears slowly dissipated. Mulder had kept on stroking her back and his surrounding warmth slowly seeped into her own muscles, draining some of the tension she'd been carrying for days. 8 days to be exact. The 8 days her mother had been dead for. Scully swallowed heavily and nuzzled a little closer still to Mulder’s skin.  
  
Lifting her head eventually, she searched for Mulder's eyes who met hers with so much love and concern it was almost too much.  
"I'm sorry I woke you,” she apologized quietly, “I know you don't sleep well. I- I’m sorry." She couldn’t help reaching up to trail a hand over his scratchy cheek. He hadn't shaved for a few days and in a flash she realized that he was grieving her mother too. Margaret Scully had always been enamored with Mulder and with his complicated family history, he’d flocked to her ministrations of hot cider, Sunday dinner and Christmas breakfast like a moth to a flame. She’d been important to him, too. Scully cupped her hand over his jaw gently, tracing his familiar features with her thumbs and watched as his eyes fluttered close.   
They weren't good yet. They were still separated. There was still a lot left unsaid between them. But even so she had come home with him from the funeral today, had come to stay the night at the house that used to be theirs and now wasn't anymore. Because she had needed him. Even if they were still trying to find each other again, her world had just been permanently shifted and at the very least she needed her best friend. With that thought in mind she resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him. Instead she only pressed her lips to his cheek for a second and then let her hand fall back down, resting her head back against his shoulder.  
His hold on her tightened for a moment and she knew he understood. They sat together in silence for a while until Scully's right arm was falling asleep and she shifted to change its position into a more comfortable one. Doing so, her fingers caught on her necklace. Or one of them at last. She was still wearing the quarter that had been in her mother's personal effects at the hospital. Another mystery she'd never get an answer to.

"When did my mother turn into a stranger?" she asked quietly, fumbling with the cool metal. She felt Mulder shifting and knew he was watching her carefully.  
"Your mother didn't turn into a stranger. Just because people have their secrets doesn't mean the version of them that you know is any less real."  
He brushed his fingers through her hair and Scully sighed but looked up to meet his eyes.  
"Have you been back to her house yet?"  
She shook her head. The thought had crossed her mind several times but in the end she'd never found the courage to go- not alone anyway.  
"Do you want to go tomorrow? Maybe you'll find some answers there."  
Scully thought about it, twisting the quarter absentmindedly between her fingers until the necklace was almost choking her before letting it unravel. She did want answers. If she couldn't know what drove her mother to change her will, then maybe she could at least find out what the deal was with this quarter. It wouldn’t make up for anything; not for the betrayal of the DNR that still lingered at the edges of her mind, not for not recognizing her only remaining daughter at her deathbed and not for the reopening of all the badly stitched wounds that bore the name William.  
  
Scully wasn’t cruel. She could rationalize why her mom had asked for Charlie in her dying moments. As she had said to Mulder when they'd sat on that log after the wake: Charlie was her child. He was her responsibility that she’d given up on and she needed to know that he was okay. It hurt that she hadn't recognized her, it hurt like a thousand bullets but her mom had been weak and confused and Scully could live with that, too. She could even learn to live with her mother not telling her about changing her will, with her wearing a necklace with a date that obviously held significance but none that Scully knew of. She could learn to live with all of that, would inevitably have to.   
What she couldn't live with however, she realized, was how consciously or not, her mom mentioning William had been another stab at her for her failure at motherhood. Another stab at the one sore subject between them that they'd never been able to fully get over. Almost 16 years and her mom still hadn’t forgiven her for giving up their son.

_Maybe_ , she suddenly grasped, _it was on that day that her mother had started to become a stranger._

All at once the tears she'd been fighting so hard were back and this time she let them come because the realization was all too much. Scully buried her face back in Mulder's shirt as the memories of the few months she had with their son flashed before her eyes, culminating as the always did, in the memory of the moment he had been taken away and how she'd lain paralyzed on the bathroom floor for hours afterwards. Only now the familiar horror show was followed up by the image of her mom’s reproachful face when she’d tearfully told her what she’d done. There had been a hug and her continued support afterward, but realizing the decision that had broken her own heart could have been the deciding factor that led to her mom’s death leaving more questions than answers now felt almost unbearable.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" Scully whispered through the tears, unwilling and unable to give up the tiny comfort of Mulder's body against hers that felt like the only thing currently holding her together. "Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch?" he questioned softly, his hand coming to rest against her cheek, asking her to return his gaze.   
"Come to bed with me then? Please? Just tonight. Just-- tonight."  
They locked eyes and maybe they were separated and maybe that meant it shouldn’t work like this anymore, but she swore in that moment he could see the bottom of her soul and understand everything she was entirely unable to articulate.  
"Okay,” he replied simply.  
And then, without further warning he picked her up and carried her towards the bedroom. He hadn't done that in years but he always used to when she had a particularly bad day and all she could do now was link her arms around his neck and hide her face against his skin and cry even harder. He navigated them safely down the hallway and laid her down on the bed with the promise to be right back. He’d turn off the lights and make sure the front door was locked, Scully knew. She curled up on her side, hands wound tightly into the cotton fabric of the sheets as the tears kept running unstoppably down her cheeks. A moment later, she felt the mattress dip and then Mulder was folding himself around her back, encasing her in strong arms. She felt a kiss being pressed to her hair.   
"I'm sorry your mom died," he whispered, "I'm sorry you couldn't wish her back to life."  
She stifled her sob in the pillow and he tightened his arms around her until eventually she drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This second part has spiraled way out of proportion and is over 4k words long. It probably didn't need to be this long and I apologize but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

The sun stood high when they pulled into the driveway of the red paneled house the next morning. It had been a quiet morning with little talking. They’d had pancakes for breakfast that Mulder had made without question and then headed out to make the drive to Maggie’s house. Looking up at it now, Scully swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. It felt weird, being here with the knowledge that her mom wasn’t awaiting her inside. It wasn’t her childhood home, having moved as much as they did, but it had been her mother’s home for the past 30 odd years and Scully felt like that made it come close enough. She’d spent countless hours here: celebrating holidays and birthdays, having casual dinners, making difficult decisions, mourning her father and sister, their priest, even Mulder at one point. Even if Scully had never really lived here, this house felt like home. And now it stood empty.  
She breathed deeply again, clutching the keys a little tighter in her hands. Mulder stepped behind her and his hands came to rest on her shoulders.

“You don’t have to do this, today. You don’t ever, if you don’t want to,” he said quietly.  
Scully shook her head.  
“No, I have to. I- I may not find any answers but I need to at least try.” Her voice hadn’t shaken and that was more than she’d thought possible. She turned to face Mulder only to find him staring wistfully at the front door, his bright hazel eyes clouded over. The sight tugged at her heart and reminded her again that this wasn’t just her loss. She gently reached for his hand and entangled their fingers.  
“You don’t have to come in with me. I know she was important to you too.”  
He shook himself from his trance and met her eyes, expression still thoughtful but determined nonetheless.  
“I’ll go in with you.”  
She smiled up at him, secretly thankful for she wasn’t sure if she could’ve handled being inside on her own. Her eyes went to the house again. The swing with it’s faded checkered pattern on the front porch. The palm tree that had grown too large for the living room. The little table with its gas firepit. It all looked so normal. Scully could feel the first tears gathering in her eyes but she wiped them away decisively, squeezed Mulder’s hand once and then headed for the door.

It smelled like her.

For a moment, Scully couldn’t breathe. Her chest constricted, her throat closed up and she couldn’t _breathe_. In the next moment Mulder was next to her and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into his side, rested her head against his arm and closed her eyes, chasing away all the memories, good and bad, that were threatening to overwhelm her. They stood for what must’ve been 10 minutes before she eventually felt able to brave starting to look around. She let go of Mulder’s hand that she’d held onto and pulled herself up straight.  
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face intently.  
She nodded, though. The feeling of suffocating had passed and she really did want to do this today. She might not make it this far again if she left now.

Scully stepped further into the entry hall as Mulder closed the front door behind them.  
What was she even looking for? Where was she supposed to start? Her eyes wandered through the room and eventually settled on the door to her father’s study on the far wall of the open dining room. Her mom had kept it pretty much like it had been while her father was alive but re-used it for her own purposes over the years. It had always stayed decorated with his official recognitions and medals but she had made it her own: used the big armchair for her knitting, added her own favorites to the bookshelves and replaced the record player and ancient PC with a modern stereo and a laptop. If Scully was looking for answers, it was probably the best place to start looking. It also felt more bearable to go in there than the living room or kitchen because those were the rooms she only remembered bustling with warmth and life and the silence of them now already almost felt too much. So she stepped into the dining room and then on into the study, Mulder following slowly behind her.

The room was illuminated by the midday sun, bathing it in a warm glow that was intensified by the red and brown colors of the curtains and dark wood furniture. It wasn’t as bad as stepping into the kitchen would’ve been, but the wool basket next to the armchair with its latest project laid on top and the forgotten coffee cup on the desk made her swallow heavily still. Decisively moving past it, Scully stepped further into the room and around the desk. There were a couple of papers strewn around and she picked them up at random. An invitation to a neighbor’s grandson’s baptism, a reminder for a dentist’s appointment, a bill for an online order. She put them back and sat down in the large leather chair that had always looked like it was swallowing her mother whole. Scully guessed it did the same to her now. She rubbed her fingers over the worn material of the armrest for a moment, remembering not her mom but her father as he’d sat in this very chair. She shook her head to pull herself out of the memories and her eyes met Mulder’s in the process who was standing opposite the desk.

“Anything interesting?” he asked.

“No, just random papers,” she replied and focused back on the desk in front of her. She opened the top drawer and quickly flipped through it but only came up with an array of office supplies. While she kept looking through the other drawers, she saw Mulder stepping closer to the bookshelves lining the walls. The drawers didn’t offer anything of relevance, but Scully did pull out the folders on insurances and the house to take home with her later.

“Who is Adrian?”  
She looked up at Mulder’s question and saw him holding out a postcard he’d picked up from one of the shelves. It showed a pretty scenery of some old church ruin at sunset.  
“I don’t know,” she replied, feeling herself frown and got up to stand next to Mulder, taking a closer look at the card. It had stood propped up between some rocks that Scully remembered being on those shelves for decades, picked up once upon a time on a family beach trip.  
  
“ _Dear Maggie, Whitby is beautiful. The town is cute, nestled between two hills at the coast. Not much of the Abbey is still standing but it sure makes for a pretty picture, don’t you think? Did you know that Whitby was Bram Stoker’s inspiration for Dracula? There’s a whole museum dedicated to it and we’re planning to go there tomorrow. I hope you are well, I’ll send you an email with some more pictures, but I figured you’d like this old-fashioned card, too. Love, Adrian_ ”, Mulder read, handing the card to Scully when she held her hand out for it. She read the words again, looked at the uneven scribble of handwriting and caught her eyes on the signature. _Adrian_.  
  
“I’ve never heard her mention that name. At least not that I can remember,” she spoke softly, something inside her starting to itch uncomfortably. Another question. How had she thought coming here would only give her answers? Turning the card over in her hands, she started chewing on her lower lip, wincing slightly when it panged with the pain of the wound she’d already bitten their the day before.  
“There’s no date on the card, but it says he’d write an email. Do you- do you want to check her computer?”, Mulder sounded hesitant and Scully shared the feeling. It was one thing to look around her mother’s house. Checking her computer somehow felt more invasive. But she was dead, wasn’t she? She wasn’t going to object anymore.  
Still, did she really need her answers that badly? Her heartbeat quickened as she remembered the nurse telling her, her mom had changed her will. Coming upon that quarter in her personal effects. How she asked for Charlie. _William_ -  
  
 _Yes_ , Scully realized, yes she did need answers that badly. Maybe that made her a bad person. Maybe she should be bigger than this. Should remember her mom how she knew her and let everything else rest. But she couldn’t. Every new piece of information she’d gathered in the past week had made her feel farther removed from her mother’s life- like she hadn’t really known her at all. And yes, maybe there was nothing to be done about that anymore. She couldn’t ask her anymore questions, couldn’t ask why she hadn’t told her the things that were going on in her life. But she could look through this house now and use all her training and experience as an investigator and find herself at least some answers.

“Yes,” she breathed, answering Mulder’s question, “Yes, I want to look through her computer.”  
She stepped back behind the desk and sat down on the worn leather chair once more, booting up the grey laptop. It wasn’t password protected and within a couple of clicks she had her mom’s email program open. Mulder had stepped next to her and was looking over her shoulder at the screen. For some reason, Scully felt like her mom would probably mind Mulder looking through her personal correspondence less than she would her. She swallowed the thought down.  
Most of the mails her mom had exchanged were with church friends that had moved away. There were a couple from Bill and his son Matthew, too. It took her a few moments of scrolling until she found what she was looking for:  
  
 **Adrian Scully “ scullzadrian@gmail.com”, January 13, 2016  
 _pictures from last week_**

Scully felt like the wind had been knocked out of her when she clicked on the mail and was met with a bunch of pictures. They showed her mom smiling happily next to a young man that looked to be about 18 and was a carbon copy of her brother Charlie. They were taken here in Maryland. At the little winter market in town. The beach. There was even one in the very living room of this house. Dropping her shaking hand from the touch pad into her lap, Scully stared at the photos in shock, so many emotions running through her simultaneously that she was left feeling dizzy and nauseous.  
Mulder put his hand on her shoulder and the weight of it was about the only thing keeping her grounded while her mind started racing, doing the math, figuring out a timeline.  
“Who is it?” Mulder asked, leaning closer to get a better look at the pictures.  
Her mouth felt dry and she needed to wet her lips before she could even open them to answer.  
“It must be Charlie’s son. He-“ she had to pause to breathe, still transfixed by the photos, “He looks exactly like Charlie at that age.”  
There was no doubt in her mind that this Adrian was Charlie’s son. Not with that face. But how? How did her baby brother have a grown-up son and she didn’t know? And how did her mom know him? The mail was dated barely three weeks ago. He must’ve visited right after New Year’s. How did she not know?

“Did you-“ Mulder started but she already shook her head.  
“No. No I didn’t know. I haven’t spoken to Charlie in 20 years. I thought none of us had...”, she trailed off, something very much like betrayal pulling a rope around her chest.  
Mulder’s hand squeezed her shoulder comfortingly but the tears were still pricking her eyes as she kept staring at the two laughing faces on the screen.  
“Charlie has a son. And he’s barely older than-“ Scully’s voice broke and she closed her eyes as the tears finally started falling.  
  
 _William_ , Adrian looked barely much older than William. William, the grandson her mom never got to know. William for whose adoption she had blamed Scully ever since. William. William. William. And now Adrian.  
  
Adrian, Charlie’s child. The grandson she apparently did get to know. Scully couldn’t understand how but there was the evidence, in high resolution on the screen in front of her. She could hardly see through the tears, but she reached a shaky hand back up to scroll through the rest of the attached photos.  
“The necklace,” Mulder suddenly pointed out and cupped his hand gently over hers for a moment before touching the screen, “look, it was a present.”  
Wiping her eyes, Scully made an effort to focus on the picture he was pointing at and realized Mulder was right. There were a few photos of what looked like a late Christmas celebration and among them was one of the quarter necklace in a jewelry box next to another box with a silver watch in it.  
“That’s my father’s watch,” Scully whispered as she realized why it looked so familiar, “she gave my father’s watch to him.”

Something inside her snapped and suddenly she couldn’t sit at that desk anymore. She needed to move, needed to get out of there. The heavy chair knocked into Mulder’s legs as she jumped up and ran out of the room, through the back door and out into the freezing February air. She stepped off the back porch until she could see the sky, tilted her head back, closing her eyes and breathed the frosty air. It burned in her lungs and made her tear-streaked cheeks go numb but she didn’t care.  
This wasn’t what she’d wanted. More questions. More guilt.  
Her little brother had a grown-up son and she didn’t know. Her little brother had a grown-up son who had visited this very house three weeks ago and she didn’t know. How long had her mother known him? How long had she talked to Adrian without telling her?  
All she had gotten from coming here were more questions and more heartbreak.  
She couldn’t bite back the first sob and once it broke free there was no stopping. She cupped her hands over her face and cried- for her mother, for herself, for William and all the unfairness of the universe.  
Scully was so caught up in her misery that she jumped when something was placed on her back from behind. She spun around and faced Mulder who’d draped her coat over her shoulders.  
“It’s freezing out here,” he spoke softly and there was a moment of silence between them before she gave up all pretenses and threw herself into his arms, clutching onto his shirt like the lifeline he’d been so often. Immediately his arms wrapped around her, encasing her in the protective shield of his embrace. She felt him rest his chin against her hair, heard him hush soothing words while she cried her heart out, simply holding on.  
  
Eventually though, when her chest hurt so much she couldn’t cry anymore, he gently pushed her away, searching her eyes.  
“Let’s go back inside. At least it’s warm there.”  
Scully simply nodded, only now realizing how cold she really was, even with the coat and Mulder’s arms around her. They went back in and Mulder guided her to the living room. Scully found she didn’t mind being here as much as she’d thought she would- too much else already stinging her to make the absence of her mother’s laugh matter. They sat down on the couch, much like they had done the night before and Scully briefly thought if this was how it was going to be from now on. How long would she keep feeling like this? She knew grief came in waves but right now she wasn’t even sure if it was really grief she was feeling or if it wasn’t just flat out anger and betrayal. The thought scared her.  
  
“I checked the dates,” Mulder spoke up and she brushed at her puffy eyes to look up at him and meet his gaze, “I thought you’d want to know how long they had contact.”  
“How long?” Her voice was raspy and she had to clear her throat.  
“A little over two years. She saved all the mails. He reached out to her around Thanksgiving. Charlie apparently didn’t want him to, but he did anyway because he was curious about his grandma. They live in Seattle. Charlie’s still with his wife, Adrian’s mom. That postcard was from an England trip he went on last year with his drama club.”  
Scully couldn’t help the warmth spreading in her heart, hearing those facts about her nephew. She had another nephew. And he wasn’t living across the ocean, even if he did live on the other side of the country. But the smile that had briefly found its way to her lips was quickly chased away when her mind returned to the first answer Mulder had given her.  
“She’s been talking to him for two years and never told me.” It came out as only a whisper, “She kept my own family from me.”  
Even though she was beyond exhausted she suddenly felt more tears welling up and bit her lip, not caring about the pain.  
“She really has become a stranger.”

“Dana, look at me.”  
Mulder’s hand came up to her cheek and gently forced her to meet his eyes again.  
“Your mom was not a stranger. You knew her. You had dinner with her every other weekend. You went on holidays together. You talked to her on the phone each week. She was not a stranger!”  
His voice was strong and his eyes soft but determined and Scully wanted to believe him but how could she?  
“Then why did she keep all these things from me? From us? You talked to her, too, right? You called, came for lunch. She told me.”  
His expression faltered and Scully could see the sadness creeping back in.  
“I did. And I don’t know. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you. I’m sure she had her reasons. She was still her own person, you know? She was your mom, but she was also her own person and if she chose not to tell you- about her will or about Adrian, then she must have had her reasons.”  
Scully bit her lip again, yesterday’s thoughts creeping back in.  
“I think- her reasons were William,” she breathed almost voicelessly, closing her eyes at the pain clutching her heart once more.  
“William?” Mulder asked gently, dropping his palm from her cheek and reaching for her hand instead.  
She nodded, feeling her throat constrict again but pushed through the feeling to explain.  
“I gave him up-“ Her voice broke and she shook her head, clutching Mulder’s hand tightly before trying again: “I gave our son up and- I think she never forgave me for that.”  
“Dana,-“  
“No. I know it. She- How could she? **I** never forgave myself for that. I know there was no other way and you were gone and I couldn’t keep him safe and they had already gotten to him once and-“ Scully couldn’t help it, the tears were back, blurring her vision, the pain gripping her heart in an iron hold, but still she pushed through.  
“I made a decision, Fox. But I have missed him every day. And my mom- she wasn’t there. I mean, she was but- but not for everything. She didn’t know- didn’t see- what he could do, what they could do. She never understood. And she had already lost Charlie and Melissa and dad and- I know she never forgave me for giving William away. And, I don’t know- maybe this- maybe this is my punishment. Her drifting away.”  
She wiped at her eyes again, trying to calm her racing heart.

  
“You think she didn’t tell you about her will or Adrian because she still blamed you for giving up William?”  
“Maybe? I don’t know, Mulder! How would I? But he was our **son**!” Scully swallowed to keep her raising voice in check, “I gave him away. And we didn’t get to know him because I made that decision and- I’ll never know him. I’ll never know into what kind of a person he grew. If he thinks about me- about us. If he has as many questions as I have. And I came here today looking for answers from my mom and instead look at where we are! What am I even doing?”  
“You’re grieving,” Mulder’s gaze was intense and held hers steadily, and the love in those hazel eyes was almost too much for her to bear right now.  
“But I HATE her. For all of this-,” she whispered desperately.  
“No you don’t.” His voice was level, calm. And he was right. She didn’t hate her mom. She loved her and she wanted her back. Unable to keep looking at his beautiful sad eyes, she let herself sink against his side once more, hiding her face at his chest.  
“I just wish I could’ve asked her all these question. And I wish- I wish I could be there to answer them for William.”  
Mulder tightened his arms around her, stroking her back gently like he had done millions of times.  
“I know,” he whispered, “I know.”  
They sat like this for a while before he suddenly pulled away and got to his feet.  
“I almost forgot- I found something I wanted to show you.”

He disappeared towards the dining room and back into the study. Scully took the moment to breathe deeply and ran her hands over her puffy wet cheeks, silently grateful that she’d had the foresight not to wear make up today. For a brief moment she considered getting up and sorting herself out in the hallway mirror but quickly decided that she did not want to see her own reflection right now. When Mulder returned a second later, he held a brown book in his hands and put it in her lap as he sat back down next to her.  
“What is it?” Scully asked, not recognizing the item.  
“Well, it’s not answers,” he smiled, “but I think maybe it’s forgiveness. Open it.”  
Scully did.  
  
 ** _Dana and Fox, April 6 th 2004_**

“That’s-“ she looked up in surprise to meet Mulder’s eyes and he was still smiling, if a little sadly.  
“I know.”  
The photo album was filled with photos of her and Mulder through the years. They dated as far back as 93 and went on right up until this last Christmas. There were years missing when they were on the run, including the 2004 date, but they picked back up with pictures of their Virginia home. The most recent photos were photos of each of them on their own, but Maggie had kept up putting them into the album.  
“It’s- our whole life,” she breathed.  
“Minus some of the more gruesome details,” he laughed and she smiled back at him. It felt good to hear him laugh. But her gaze was drawn back to the album in her hands. It was done with careful detail and the fact that it went on past 2002 and even into recent years, albeit there no longer being the two of them together- it felt like balm on her aching soul, knowing her mom had poured so much love into documenting her life.  
Mulder was right. Maybe this was forgiveness. She carefully closed the book and held it tightly, meeting Mulder’s eyes again.  
“Thank you. For finding it. I didn’t know she had this.”  
“I’m sorry it’s not the answers you were looking for.”  
“It’s-“ she paused, thinking, trying to work through the remnant chaos in her mind and heart, “Maybe it can be enough. Eventually.”  
His smile warmed her heart. It made him look 20 years younger yet somehow still conveyed all the love that had built between them in those very 20 years that went by since he actually was that lanky boyish agent in the basement.  
“I should probably write Adrian an email,” she said, holding on to his eyes and his smile.  
He nodded, “Probably.”  
“I should call Charlie, too.”  
“Do you want to?”  
Scully breathed deeply, resting the photo album in her lap and winding her hands around Mulder’s upper arm, resting her head against it.  
“I think I do. I have so many questions and- I want to ask them while I still can.”  
He hummed in understanding.  
“Thanks for coming here with me today.”  
“Well, it wasn’t really what you wanted, was it?”  
“No,” she conceded, “but when is it ever?”  
He let out a short laugh and she felt a smile tugging at her own lips.  
“Scully?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I don’t blame you for giving William away,” he spoke, “I never have. I don’t know- I just need you to know that. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me and that you had to make this decision alone. And I understand that- all these questions you have about him, for him- that it’s hard and heartbreaking. I- I just need you to know that I understand. I loved him too, I have questions too. But I never really had him. You did and you lost him and I get that that is almost worse. I want you to know that I know.”  
  
When Scully looked up, he wasn’t meeting her eyes but he hadn’t moved away either, so she reached up and stroked his cheek until he eventually turned to face her.  
“I know,” she said softly, meeting his eyes, “but thank you.”  
There was longing in his eyes and she could see them flick to her lips briefly before he whispered almost voicelessly:  
“I love you, Scully.”

She smiled, her heart for once today beating faster with joy and not with pain.  
“I love you, too,” she replied, holding his gaze for another moment, before resting her head back against his forearm, her eyes falling back onto the book in her lap. A small smile spread on her lips.  
“My mom kept our photo album recent even through the past few years,” she said slowly.  
“Umm?”  
She could hear the confusion in Mulder’s voice and chuckled.  
“I’m saying that she probably had her reasons. And maybe that I hope she was onto something.”  
They weren’t good. They were still separated. And still-  
She sensed his muscles relax before his laugh reached her ears and felt a kiss being pressed to her hair.


End file.
